On Paper I Should Be Dead

Earlier this week I called in one batch of my prescriptions to be refilled at the local pharmacy and after work on Thursday I decided to make a quick trip through the drive through to pick them up. There's nothing like taking the last dose of your anti-narcolepsy medication to encourage you to get your butt to the pharmacy. So I pulled up to the window and was greeted by someone I had never seen before. Ahhh, the innocence of fresh meat. I provided her with my name, spelling it out carefully to avoid the issue of "we don't have anyone by that name in the computer". She then asked me how many prescriptions I was picking up. With an evil glint in my eye I told her that there shoudl be somewhere around eight or nine but that when you are calling in that many prescriptions late at night you tend to lose count. Blinking she backed away from the window and headed off to find my stockpile. Returning she held up the bags and informed me that there were seven (my doctor is holding one hostage until I show up for labwork - go figure, two months late and he becomes a little testy). The price seemed to send her pretty brown eyes spinning just a bit and I asked her if they ever had a buy one get one free sale. It was when she ran my debit card, with my picture and name on it, that she made the connection that all of the medications were mine. I could see the exact minute because those brown eyes just about smacked into my car windshield. She gasped and stuttered out "Are all these medications for you?!?". I nodded and with a wicked grin replied "that's not all of them either." I then calmly returned her eyes to her so she could print the receipt. I used the standard line to reassure her, "I lost the genetic lottery" and then left her wondering with the parting line "Don't worry, on paper I should be dead". Something tells me that the next time I need to pick up a batch of medication, I will not need to spell my name for her. :)